Small World
by Red43Collaborative
Summary: Inspired by Mini Chipmunk Mionee's Thumblione, Draco Malfoy purchases a doll's house from Ron Weasley for his mother's birthday, only to find out a small Hermione Granger was inside. Rated T for the moment, may change later depending on where I decide to go with this... ;)
1. Chapter 1

I

Hermione was waiting for Ron when he came waltzing into her shop—Everything Muggle—the morning following her big discovery. The git had been stepping out with Lavender Brown again. He'd told her the last time that he'd never do it again, but it hadn't even taken a month for another infraction. Maybe even less, for all she knew.

"There you are, Ronald," she said, arms crossed over her heaving chest, anger clearly written on her face. "We need to talk."

"Can't it wait, Hermione?" he asked tiredly. "I've had a bit of a rough night. Auror duties, you know."

"I know exactly where you've been all night, and that is precisely why we need to talk."

Ron's face fell. He looked guilty for all of about five seconds before he became recalcitrant instead.

"Well?" Hermione demanded. She was standing near a table where she'd placed the house she'd shrunk along with the rest of the reduction potion she'd used on it. It had taken surprisingly little to get the size she wanted, and now she had no idea what to do with the rest of the liquid she'd used.

"It's your own fault, Hermione," he told her. "You're the most unloving person I know. Don't even want to kiss me anymore, and we're always arguing. What else am I supposed to do?"

"I am not taking the blame for this again, Ronald Weasley!" Hermione shouted at him. "This has been going on for most of our relationship, and I'm not taking it anymore. If you want Lavender so much, then get the hell out of my shop and go live with her."

"Maybe I will," he said in a threatening tone. "With an indignant twist, he turned away to head for the door again, but unfortunately as he did so he ran into the table. The vial full of reduction potion dumped all over Hermione and she began to shrink. "Bloody hell!"

"Ron, what have you done?" Hermione shrieked in a tiny voice.

"Well, it serves you right, you little know-it-all!" Ron scoffed. "You spend more time playing with your Muggle toys than you do with me anyway. You might as well be one of them. And I'm going to make sure you do."

Stepping gingerly around the table so he didn't get any potion on himself, Ron grabbed Hermione's wand, which she'd left over by the cauldron, and snapped the thing in two. Hermione gasped indignantly as he tossed both pieces aside and stormed out the door.

"Oh no!" she gasped, well aware that only the wand that made the reduction potion could be used to counteract the effects. She burst into tears, crying for quite some time before admonishing herself for it.

"Just because I can't counteract the potion doesn't mean I can't figure out a growth potion instead," she said in an inspired voice. "I'll show him!"

Hermione ran as fast as her little legs could carry her to the table beside her cauldron, trying desperately to find a way to get at the book she'd left there. Finally, she ran as fast as she could and rammed one of the legs, and the book toppled down.

Unfortunately, it had toppled down right on top of her. She spent over an hour just trying to free herself, and by the time she'd done so she was too exhausted to open the thing and look for the page she needed. She fell asleep right there on the floor, tears streaming down her tiny face.

OOO

The next morning Hermione was startled awake by the sound of the front door of the shop opening. A mother and her two children wandered in and started looking around. Hermione froze, not wanting anyone to discover her in such a state.

The little girl spotted her on the floor and picked her up. "Look, Mum, it's a little doll. Can I have it? Please?"

"Well, I would buy it for you, darling, but the shopkeeper doesn't appear to be here," the woman said. "Perhaps you ought to put it back into the dollhouse, and we'll be able to come back later to buy the whole set."

"Oh, yes, Mummy, that would be grand!" she agreed, and set Hermione inside the house she'd been working on as the three left the shop.

Hermione took a deep breath and stepped to the side of the table, looking over the edge. She had no idea how she was supposed to get back down where the book was lying on the floor, waiting to be opened. Tears welled in her eyes as she looked around for something she could use like a rope to no avail.

If no one came in here again, she might starve to death, she realized with awful clarity. It was at least a good thing that she'd rigged the reduced-sized house with running water and a working toilet, or she'd be in real trouble.

Hermione cursed as she looked over at the larger half of her broken wand. Ron hadn't even left her with a wand to use. She had no way to take care of herself here in the Wizarding world without her wand. It wasn't like she could call anyone for help if she had no way to create a Patronus. Besides which, if she did make one, it might very well be as tiny as she was and go completely unnoticed by whoever she sent it to.

When Hermione heard the front door open again she almost breathed a sigh of relief. Almost—except that the person who entered was a very determined-looking Ronald Weasley.

"What are you doing back?" she wanted to know as she watched him pace around the room, picking up her wand and then grabbing the book she'd left on the floor. "Hey, those belong to me, Ronald. What do you think you're doing?"

"I can't let anyone find out about this," he said as he ran a hand over his head nervously. "I could get into some real trouble if anyone knew. I've got to get rid of you and that bloody house somewhere—maybe I'll stash you out in the Forbidden Forest or something. Someplace where you couldn't tell anyone."

"Ron, you git, how am I supposed to find any food?" she pointed out with her hands on her hips.

"I've thought of that already," he told her, pointing to his disheveled red mop of hair. "I've shrunk you down some army rations. See, little miss know-it-all, you're not the only one who can be clever."

Hermione gaped at the tiny packets of food inside the box Ron set into the basement portion of the house. He'd even gone so far as to shrink her some plates and silverware, and even a large quantity of toilet paper. She shook her head sadly as she said, "You really gave this a lot of thought, didn't you, Ronald? You really don't want me around."

"This is your own fault, Hermione," he reminded her in a high-handed tone. "I never meant for this to happen, but I'll be damned if I'm going to suffer for it."

"I can't believe you're so selfish," Hermione began, but closed her mouth as the door rattled again.

Without a second thought, Ron grabbed her up and put her under the bed in the upstairs bedroom of the little house. "Stay in there and be quiet," he ordered. Hermione had no chance to even agree before he slammed the whole house shut and stashed it behind the table, out of sight.


	2. Chapter 2

II

Draco Malfoy strutted down Diagon Alley with a smug look as he surveyed all the repairs his money had went to. Since the war had ended, he'd been called upon to do some sort of penance for his part in it if he wished to avoid incarceration in Azkaban prison, so of course he had been ready to do his part—as long as it didn't involve actual _labour_, of course. Malfoys did not do _labour._

He was shopping for a present for his mother's birthday, which was tomorrow. Recently she'd taken a liking to all thing Muggle, ornaments and gewgaws and such. He wanted to find a gift that would please her, but he refused to shop in the Muggle world.

As an alternative measure, he'd remembered the shop in Diagon Alley, next to the atrocity of a store owned by the remaining Weasley twin, which the Mudblood had recently opened. A small part of him was curious how Granger was doing these days, so he'd decided this was the perfect time to finally do more than peek in through the windows.

Unlike the Weasley store, Hermione's shop held a sense of elegance and radiating beauty—very much like its owner, he admitted ruefully. Hermione Granger was a strange mixture of old fashioned décor and progressive thinking, and her shop was equally as diverse, from what he could tell.

As he looked in the window once again, he was pleased to see the place wasn't the usual sort of curiosity shop—dusty, cramped, and completely dark. No, this place was painted a deep brown, and the wood accents were carved with such a technique as no wand had ever been able to achieve. It was a sight to see, all right.

He was surprised to find that place empty when he got there today. The usual round of curious shoppers were not milling about the place, and he wondered for a moment if she'd even opened for the day. He certainly hoped so, for there was no other Muggle shop in all of the Wizarding world, and he would hate to disappoint his mother.

Head held high, Draco stepped in the door and cast his eyes about for the perfect gift. Bookcases lined the walls on each side of the shop. On the right he found Muggle literature, from the old Shakespeare, Wordsworth and Dickinson to many of the newer authors enjoying current popularity.

To the left, Draco discovered all kinds of Wizard texts. Among the offering there were original copies of Hogwarts: A History, Wizard romance novels, and anything else one could ever hope for that was Wizard-based.

The back of the shop held a small desk, and an empty table next to a tipped over stool and an empty cauldron. He assumed Granger must have been working on something there, though he could not say what it had been.

Sitting near the shelf was a strange black box. Images moved and flickered around on its face, and it seemed to be showing a girl running through a forest as she shot arrows at another girl. What an oddity it was—and clearly very Muggle indeed.

On a shelf above the box sat a selection of thin, rectangular boxes in different colors. Draco skimmed his hand over them and read the names printed down the sides: The Secret Garden…The Little Princess…The Wizard of Oz.

Draco scoffed a little at the last one and pulled it out, chuckling over the cover. There was a woman dressed in a blue and white dress, followed by a scarecrow, a man made of metal, and an unrealistic-looking lion. In the background was a giant green city, a giant green face, and a woman dressed in black, with a long, hooked nose, who flew on a broomstick.

"Well, they kind of got the clothes and the broom right, but witches are not green," he commented wryly.

A man gasped and staggered from behind the table. He never would have recognized him if it wasn't for the shock of red hair on his head.

Ron stepped over to him nervously and said, "That's a television, and those—including the one in your hands—are DVDs. All of it can be yours for just three hundred galleons."

Draco stared hard at Ron Weasley as he fidgeted from foot to foot, waiting for a response. Something about him seemed a bit odd, Draco thought, though he couldn't quite put his finger on it. "Weasley," he said cautiously as he continued to stare.

"Yes, hello Malfoy," he said. "What brings you here?"

"I'm looking for a birthday gift for my Mum," he said with as much dignity as he could muster. "She seems to have taken a liking to Muggle items, so I thought I'd look in here."

"Who would have ever thought Draco Malfoy would enter a shop like this," Ron said with a shake of his head. "Small world, isn't it?"

Draco stood there tensely, waiting for Ron to continue. The former Gryffindor student began to rub his chin thoughtfully for a few moments, and then his eyes widened and he grinned in a sinister manner that heightened the suspicions Draco already had. He almost looked like a Slytherin.

"I've got just the thing for you," he said in a gleeful tone. "Over here."

Warily, Draco followed Ron over to the other side of the table and crossed his arms. "What is that thing?" he inquired.

"It's a doll's house," Ron explained, still wearing that huge smile of his. He lifted it up and set it on the table, then started fiddling with the doors and windows, and showed him how it opened on a hinge so one could access the inside.

"Why isn't it on display, if you're trying to sell it?" Draco wanted to know.

"Well, you see, it was one of Hermione's favorites, but it takes up too much space in such a small shop," he explained. "I've been dying to get rid of it, but I couldn't give it away to just anybody, you understand. She would want to see it go to a good home."

"And you're offering it to me?" Draco scoffed. "I doubt Granger would think my home was very good."

"Well, maybe not you, precisely, but I don't think she'd object to your mother having it," Ron said in a wheedling tone.

"Where is Granger, anyway?" Draco asked through narrowed eyes. "This is her shop, isn't it? Why isn't she here?"

Ron gave a hesitant nod. "Uh, yeah, she's just been—detained."

Draco raised a brow at this, but he said no more. He figured this was just the sort of present his mother would like, so he didn't intend to push the issue too far. He leaned forward to study the craftsmanship of the piece, marveling at its beauty. The details were amazing.

The house had nine rooms altogether, two in the attic, two on the first, second and third floors, and a large basement. The brick pattern from the outside was also used to accent some of the rooms, while the basement was done up with brick in its entirety. There were even a few tiny cracks in the walls to make it seem more realistic.

Draco smiled. Every room had a different design, and they looked just as if a small person could actually live in them. There was even a tiny plate of half-eaten sandwiches on the little kitchen table. Draco laughed when he saw them.

"My mother would love this," he told Ron as he closed the house and turned back to Ron. "She's been looking for a doll's house for a while now. How much do you want for it?"

"Fifty galleons," Ron smirked.

Draco raised his eyebrows at this. "Just fifty? What's wrong with it?"

"Oh, nothing at all, mate," Ron reassured him with a shrug. "It's just taking up the space."

Draco was convinced that something was going on. Ron was too jittery. Though, he had mentioned before that the little house was one of Hermione's favorites. Maybe the two had had another argument, and he was selling it off without her consent.

With a smirk, he recalled that Ron and Hermione had been together for some time now, but it wasn't difficult to see that their relationship was falling apart. Without another word, he took fifty galleons from his purse and plunked it down on the table.

Then he tapped the doll's house on the roof with his wand, gave Ron a parting nod, and Disapparated with a loud pop. He appeared shortly after in Malfoy Manor with his new purchase, and quickly hid it in his bedroom to await the following day.


	3. Chapter 3

III

Hermione awoke with a start and hit her head on the bottom of the bed. She rolled over drowsily as her head bounced off the metal leg, and finally she remembered where she was with a sinking feeling of unease. Hissing with disgust, she scooted out from underneath and molded the leg back into shape, removing all evidence of the collision with the bed's thin, wiry frame.

She sighed in frustration as she remembered what had happened. That arse of a Weasley had sold her to Draco Malfoy-of all people-for a mere fifty galleons. And worse yet, she was certain the git had taken off with her wand and the book of spells, making it impossible for her to get back to her normal size again.

Would she be doomed to spend the rest of her life as the plaything of Narcissa Malfoy? Of all the rotten fates Ron could have wished on her, this had to be the worst by far.

Tears streamed down her tiny cheeks. Someday, she realized with horror, Draco would bring his children here, and it was highly likely they'd be spoiled with candy, and then allowed to rub their grubby little fingers all over her. His daughter might even decide to undress her and leave her lying on the floor. And then, who would find her there but Lucius Malfoy himself!

Oh, the horror! She hated to leave her house and her food behind, but she'd be damned if she was going to be manhandled by every single Malfoy in existence!

Hermione sat on the edge of her bed and sobbed. She really wasn't properly dressed to survive in the woods. She had on a frilly pink nightgown, of all things. Where was she supposed to get a good pair of jeans and shirt, and a coat and gloves and hat for when it became cold?

Well, she thought wryly, she could always slay a mouse. An unexpected chuckle ripped from her, and then she gasped and looked over to where Draco still slept in his bed.

He rolled over and muttered, "Just a few more minutes, Mum."

Eyes widened, she realized that if she intended to escape at all, she would need to formulate a plan soon. She dashed down the flimsy wooden staircase to where she'd left her sandwich on the table. Granted the thing looked a bit soggy, and had slid off the plate during her trip here, but it still looked edible, and she needed to eat something before she set off on her own.

She snatched the food up and retreated as fast as she could back up to the bedroom, nibbling as she went. She was already formulating an idea how to proceed. She would use the blanket on the bed as a makeshift bag of sort, and pack as many things into it as she could.

Then she froze when she heard a woman's voice. It had to be Draco's mother, coming to wake him for real this time.

With a gasp, Hermione scrambled back under the bed to hide. If Narcissa Malfoy discovered her in the little house, she'd never be able to get out of there. She would just have to hope the woman did not lift the bed.

"Draco, what is this?" she gasped delightedly as she spotted the doll's house and came to have a look. Hermione held her breath until she began to turn blue before she gave up and took another gulp of air.

"Happy birthday, Mother!" called Draco as he crawled out of bed to join her.

"Oh Draco, it's exactly what I wanted!" Narcissa squealed. "Thank you so much!"

"You're welcome, Mother," he answered with a pleased smile. He'd known she would love it, and he'd been right.

Through the thin sheet that hung over the edge of the bed Hermione could see the front of the house open, and she shied further back under the bed. Her heart was pounding hard in her chest as she waited to see what Narcissa would do next.

The older woman ran her fingers over every other piece of furniture lovingly, and then she opened the little fridge and cooed with excitement. "Oh, look! There's even little packets of food in here! All Muggle foods!"

Despite her fear, Hermione sighed in annoyance when she heard that. What would she do if Narcissa decided to take her food? Damn Ronald Bilius Weasley to hell!

Draco had been watching his mother indulgently until he thought he heard a noise under the bed and turned to look in that direction. Seeing him, Hermione held her breath, afraid she was about to be discovered.

However, it wasn't Draco she should have been watching, for just as she took her attention away from Narcissa, the woman suddenly reached in and fiddled with the blankets on the bed. She hadn't gotten a chance to make it before they'd invaded her home.

Gasping, Hermione straightened herself out and kept silent, trying to appear completely doll-like. Narcissa stopped what she was doing and gasped as she caught sight of a tiny arm. She lifted up the bed and squealed gleefully.

"Oh, look! There's even a little doll!"

"What?" Draco asked as she picked up Hermione and held her between her thumb and forefingers, turning her in different directions.

"Such wonderful craftsmanship. I never knew Muggles were this clever."

Draco leaned in closer to get a better look, and raised one brow ever so slightly as he examined her with a casual glance. Hermione was attempting to keep her eyes wide and fixed, looking straight ahead, but still Draco's brow furrowed when he thought he saw her blink.

"You know, Mother, that doll looks a lot like Granger," he said. "I wonder if she had it made specially."

"I don't know, Draco, but even if she did, the doll is mine now," Narcissa commented, smiling as she continued to fiddle with her clothes and hair.

Draco took the doll from her hands and looked closer still. "In fact, it looks exactly like her-same annoying know-it-all facial expression, too."

Hermione couldn't help it. She furrowed her brow and cast him a brief glare, then froze again, remembering she was a doll. Draco handed her back, and said, "Well, Mother, where would you like your doll's house to be?"

"In the library, I think," she said. "But I'll have to make a place first. We'll just have to leave it in here for now. Do you mind, son?"

"Anything for you, Mother," he said with a smile. "Shall I put the doll to bed?"

"No, she looks hungry," said Narcissa with a grin. "We'll put her at the table."

Narcissa bent Hermione into a sitting position and sat her in a dinner chair. Hermione stayed as still as possible until the woman finally left, bringing Draco along with her to help her move things around in the library. But as he left, he turned his head back and whispered, ''Stay there, Granger, we need to talk."

Hermione scowled, but she knew that it would be foolish to escape out into the cold world at her size, so she was forced to do as he said.


	4. Chapter 4

IV

"So Draco, where did you say you got the doll's house?" Narcissa asked as the pair of them returned a few hours later. "Everything Muggle, in Diagon Alley? I think I'd like to visit that shop myself sometime."

"Yes, Mother," he said. "It's right next to that disaster of a store owned by the remaining Weasley twin. But I don't think you'll find Granger there just now, if you go. The Weasel said something about her going away on business for a while."

"Well, that's nice," she commented. "I wonder what kind of business would tear a Muggle away from her shop."

Draco smirked, slightly nervous as he looked inside the little house. Granger was nowhere in sight, he noticed. He hoped she hadn't gone off somewhere. He'd hate to have to go looking for her, and he wanted some answers.

"Well, it's very sad that she had to part with such a magnificent item," Narcissa said lightly. "I would have liked to thank her for it myself."

"Okay, well, are you sure you don't want to just leave it in here until tomorrow?" Draco asked hopefully.

"No, dear, it's hardly the kind of thing a young man wants in his bedroom," she insisted. Snapping her fingers, she called out, "Willa, do come and move this doll's house to the library for us."

Draco looked in the house again as the little house elf popped into view, and saw that Granger was back in the dining chair, frozen like she'd been when they'd left. Casting her a dubious frown, he nodded and winked.

Hermione was quite surprised to see this. She and Malfoy had never got on as children-but then again, that had been during the war, and she hadn't had much interaction with him since it ended. Perhaps he would be willing to help her out of this mess somehow.

The next thing she knew, Hermione and her house popped out of Draco's room and into the library of Malfoy Manor. She looked out through the little window with such excitement as she'd never felt before. Wall to wall books, row upon row. There had to be thousands of them! Perhaps she would like it here after all.

OOO

Several hours later, Hermione fell asleep beside a rather large book she'd been trying to read, which she had dragged close to her house. She had, of course, been planning to put the thing back, but she had not realized how tiring it could be just trying to read a book three times the size of the reader.

Draco found her that way, and shook his head in exasperation. "Some doll you make, Granger," he whispered as he ran a finger along her tiny cheek. Hermione's eyes popped open in shock and fear, but when she saw his face some of the tension seemed to ease.

"Oh, it's you, Draco," she said in relief. "I really should be more careful."

"Well, that goes without saying, since you're about the same size as my thumb," he pointed out with only a very little bit of sneer in his voice.

"Oh, ha ha," Hermione grumbled. "A lot of help you are."

"That I may just be, if you care to tell me what the devil is going on," he answered as he reached down and picked her up, bringing her to eye level so she was easier to see.

"Hey, I'm not really a doll," she reminded him. "You shouldn't just go about picking people up without even asking."

With a chuckle, he replied, "But I own you, don't I? The Weasel sold you to me, fair and square."

"I am not going to be your plaything, Draco Malfoy," she told him firmly. "Who knows what sorts of things you'd like to play with."

"Wouldn't you like to know?

"Not especially," she replied circumspectly. "I wouldn't be in this mess at all if Ron and I hadn't been fighting again."

"What were you fighting about?" Draco asked her curiously.

"The same thing we always fought about," Hermione replied. "Lavender Brown. I don't know what he can possibly see in her-she's such an idiot."

"Yes, but then again, so is Ron," Draco pointed out with a laugh. "Oh, sorry, but I couldn't help myself."

Hermione's scowl slipped and finally turned into a grin as she said, "Well, then I suppose they're perfect for each other, aren't they?'

"Yes," Draco agreed. "They've got so much in common, haven't they? But you haven't told me how you ended up getting shrunk."

"Well, I had just made a bunch of reduction formula and shrank down this house, you see," she said as she pointed to it. "Afterwards, I set the rest on my work table while I modified the thing so you could open and close it, and made all the plumbing work. And I was doing all that to keep from going right over to Lavender's house and strangling the two of them."

"Why bother?" Draco said. "The way I see it, the blighter deserves the bint."

"Anyway, he came into my shop all shagged out, and I called him to task," she explained. "And when I'd said my piece, he got ready to walk out, only he bumped the table on the way and the rest of the formula dumped all over me. He said I'd gotten just what I deserved and left, but later he returned and broke my wand and stole my spell book so I couldn't figure out how to change myself back. Before you came in, he was planning to stash me and my house out in the woods somewhere."

"I ought to go right over there and punch him in the nose!" Draco fumed. "I knew he was up to no good. I've never liked him anyway."

"No, there's no point to punching him," Hermione pointed out. "I think it'll be much better if we just let Lavender Won-won him to death."

"Yes, but Hermione, he's got your spell book," said Draco insistently. "If I can get it back, we might be able to get you back to size."

"Since when did you care about me, anyway?" she asked him.

"Well, I just hate to see a lady in distress, I guess," he answered with a blush

"He's not likely to give the book to you in any case."

"Oh no, there's where you're wrong," he said. "I didn't spend all that time with Death Eaters for nothing. I'll be back with that book in no time, mark my words."

"Very well," Hermione answered. "I shall."


	5. Chapter 5

V

Even though Draco had his doubts about finding Ron in Hermione's shop, she had insisted he look there first. "And remember, he's going to assume you found me by now, so make sure to have your wand at the ready."

"Don't look so worried, Granger," he told her. "You'll be back to your old self in no time."

"Draco, I can't thank you enough for helping me. I admit I've always thought you were a worthless, self-absorbed ferret, but I'm beginning to realize that under all that is a man with a heart."

"I'll see you when I get back," he said, trying not to smile.

Soon he found himself standing in front of Hermione's shop. A sign on the door said 'Going out of Business' written in carelessly sloppy penmanship. Ignoring this, Draco opened the door and strode inside.

"Weasleby, you lousy git," he said as he spotted Ron coming out to see who was there. "I've got a few words to say to you."

When Ron saw that Draco was brandishing his wand as he spoke, the friendly smile he had forced onto his face immediately disappeared. "You-you do?" he stammered nervously.

"You know exactly why I'm here," said Draco as he used his wand to pin him against the wall. "Where are Hermione's wand and book?"

"I-I don't have them, Malfoy," he stammered, tears springing up in his eyes.

"Ron? What's going on out th-" began a female voice. Lavender Brown, wrapped in a sheet, stepped into the room.

"Well, isn't this cozy?" said Draco as he grabbed Ron by the throat and trained his wand on the girl. "Just like two peas in a pod, now that Hermione's out of the way. You two make me sick. The book and wand, Weasley, before your little girlfriend here finds out what you did to your ex."

"She went to Australia," said Lavender as if she knew everything, and held her chin high and proud for her man.

"Told you that, did he?" Draco scoffed.

"I broke the wand and I just sold the book yesterday," Ron said quickly. "One of the hags from Westerton Hill bought it."

Draco's face fell, and he let Ron go. The lousy coward took the opportunity to go stand behind Lavender so he'd be harder to hit. She had no idea that was his reason, and continued to stand with her proud stance.

"Bloody Westerton Hill?" Draco growled, putting his wand away entirely. "How'm I supposed to get it back from those three fiends?"

"I don't know, why don't you go find out?" Ron said bravely, now that the wand wasn't in plain sight.

"Don't you care at all?" Draco wanted to know.

"No, I don't," Ron growled. "She can stay right where she is forever, for all I care. You bought the house and all its contents, you can bloody well do as you like with them."

"You lousy little freak," Draco said. "I ought to hex you but good. And I suggest that you two get the hell out of Hermione's shop or you'll be speaking with some Aurors next."

"You really think they're going to believe you?" Ron scoffed.

"They will when I show them the-evidence," Draco reminded him.

"Lav, go get dressed," said Ron to Lavender, who was standing there looking far less confident than before.

"What's he talking about, Ron? What evidence?"

"Brown, I don't want you to be his next victim," Draco said sternly. "You need to just walk away from the mental git before he tries to dispose of you, too."

"Dispose of me? You mean-you mean he's killed Hermione?" she squealed, and quickly ran into the bedroom, grabbed up her belongings, and Apparated away.

"Great, now where am I supposed to go?"

"Why don't you go crawl back home to your Mum?" said Draco with a laugh, and then he turned and left the shop.

Right behind him, Ron ran over and locked the door, and put up a sign that said 'Closed For Business' on it. Then he closed the curtains, and Draco heard the distinct, popping sound of Apparation.

"Bloody hags of Westerton!" Draco muttered as he stepped out into the street and Apparated away again. When he reassembled, he stood just outside a huge iron gateway, closed tightly against any unwelcome visitors.

Beyond the gate stood the house from hell. Many a young man went in, but very few ever got out again unscathed. The three witches in the abode were total sex fiends, and young men were their prey. Too bad the sisters were all so ugly, or Draco could not think of a better way to die. However, since death was not on his agenda, he needed to find a way in and out again without them knowing. He just hoped Granger would appreciate his efforts.


	6. Chapter 6

VI

Finding a scalable spot along the heavily magic-proofed fence had not been an easy matter, but Draco had managed to find one far away from the road as he wandered around the mile-wide estate's perimeter. It had not been easy going, since the ground was far from level, and he'd gotten to the roughest part, with a very steep drop below should he happen to fall. Lucky for him he hadn't.

He now crouched just inside the estate, leaning on the fence he'd managed to get over and breathing heavily. No one was in sight, and the buildings, which were to the front of the huge place, were far in the distance from here. Draco was certain he'd be spotted if he simply walked across the field that spanned the distance from here to there.

"I wonder if I can use magic now that I'm inside," he muttered, then successfully turned himself into a field mouse. It would take much longer to get where he was going in that form, but at least he wouldn't be such an easy target during the endeavor.

The sun had set by the time he was halfway there, and the sky was completely dark when he finally reached his destination. Now he would have to figure out how to get inside, find the book, and carry it out again without alerting anyone to his presence. It was quite a tall order-especially at his current height.

A basement window with broken glass was his ticket inside. He kept a look-out not only for humans, but cats, dogs, or other rodents as well. So far, the coast was clear. He crept through more than one room in his search attempts, finally wandering into a library. This was the most likely place to find a book, he thought, and he set to the task with renewed gusto.

"Winevra, isn't that the young man we've been waiting on?" asked a hag as she stepped in the door, and pointed right at him.

"Why, yes it is, Agatha," the other hag agreed. "Solarity, get in here now. Our guest has finally arrived."

Draco tried to scamper away, but one of their spells struck home and he found himself running on hands and knees in human form. Well aware that he was in trouble now, he turned and stood up, straightening his immaculate suit as he stared the three creatures down.

"Good evening, ladies," he said in a suave voice that would have done his father proud.

"Ah, good evening, young Master," Winevra answered as she looked him over appreciatively.

"He looks good enough to eat, Win," Solarity said with a smile as she stepped forward and felt his arm, then his arse, with a toothsome grin. "Ah, he's a fine specimen, indeed. He'll make some good eating."

"First things first, sisters," said Agatha as she stepped between them and up to Draco. "We must observe the formalities before we begin to play, mustn't we?"

"Spoil sport," Win and Solarity grumbled in unison.

"What brings a fine young gentleman like you into our midst, eh?" Agatha inquired, fluttering her warty eyelids at him and rolling her bloodshot green eyes.

Resisting the urge to vomit outright, Draco replied, "A book, actually. It belonged to a friend of mine, and seems to have been sold by mistake."

"A book, is it?" answered Solarity. "I bought it fair and square from that red haired git, and for a steal of a price, I might add. It belongs to me, now. It's a very valuable tome, young Master, but not nearly as valuable as a plump young stud like you."

"A bargain, perhaps?" Draco ventured, though he didn't even want to think what these things would want in exchange for the item. They would probably give it to him and then kill him to get it back anyway, if they could. Especially the hungry-looking one who'd bought it.

"What did you have in mind?" Agatha inquired in what she must consider a seductive voice.

"We have a great many needs to meet, to be sure," Win added as she stepped closer to grab Draco's fine arse. "Many, many needs."

"Perhaps you'd like to stay for dinner?" Solarity added hopefully.

"I had a monetary amount in mind," he told them.

"Money? What a bore you are," said Agatha. "Surely you could think of something more enticing than that?"

"Yes, yes, let's have a look at that delicious body of yours," Solarity agreed.

"Now, now, ladies, please," he said. "There's plenty of me to go around, but first I must make certain you actually have the book in question. Although pleasuring you all would not be a complete waste of time-"

"Really?" Agatha asked shrewdly. "You mean to say you'd be willing?"

"As a Death Eater, one can acquire some-unusual tastes," he lied blatantly, but made it as convincing as he could.

"You can see the book," Agatha agreed. "But you'll not lay one finger on it until the transaction is complete." Then she threw off her robes to reveal her ancient, warty green skin, and Draco felt his bile rise again. He plastered on a smile he hoped looked genuine.

Solarity brought forth the book in question, "_Household Spells Through the Ages,"_ she read the title.

"What did you want with this book, anyway?" he asked. "Did you have a need for the reduction spell, too?"

"Oh, no, dearie," she answered. "I was after the enlargement spell, only I still haven't figured out how to use it on only part of the item." The way she looked at his crotch gave him a fairly good idea of what she'd been trying to use the spell on.

"So, I take it you've had other blokes over recently?" he asked to fill the uncomfortable silence that occurred after she'd said this.

"Yes, but none of them very satisfactory," Agatha said. "Now that you've seen your book, perhaps we could see if you're any better."

Win had surreptitiously unbuttoned his fly as her sister spoke, and now she suddenly pulled down his pants around his knees. Obviously she knew from prior experience that it was more difficult to run with one's pants halfway down.

"Oh, he's much better," Solarity exclaimed. "We don't even need to use that spell on him!"

With a wan smile, Draco surged forward to grab the book, and waddled toward the door. Of course it slammed shut in his face.

"What's your hurry, dearie?" Agatha inquired with the hugest, most disgusting smile he'd ever seen. Managing to pull up his pants, he dove for the window instead, breaking right through the glass.

"Oh, damn!" Solarity whined. "I finally found him, and now not only has he gone off, he went off with my book before I ever figured out the spell.

"Don't worry, my dear," Agatha consoled her. "There's plenty more fish in the sea."

"Yes," she agreed on a sigh. "But most of them are tadpoles."

All three hags cackled merrily at her joke, and then Agatha waved her wand and the shards of broken glass reformed as a complete window again.

"Mustn't catch a draft," she muttered. "Pixie, do come put another log on the fire."

A house elf popped in with a leg bone and tossed it into the fireplace. "Will that be all, Mistress?"

"Yes, you may go," she answered. "And mind you don't eat all the fingers to yourself this time. I was most disappointed with yesterday's meal."

"As you wish, Mistress," she said with a bob, disappearing again.


	7. Chapter 7

VII

"Draco, where have you been, darling?" asked Narcissa from her perch beside her doll's house. "I've been sitting here for hours enjoying my new toy. It's a wonderful gift."

Inwardly, Draco felt a pang of sympathy for Hermione as he replied, "I'm glad you like it, Mother. I thought you would."

"Oh, yes, my dear boy, but I fear I may have remained down here a bit too long," she said with a chuckle. "My right foot has fallen asleep. Dinner will be ready shortly."

With that, Narcissa got to her feet and gave him a small kiss on the cheek as she turned to go. Then, pausing at the door she said, "That is a most unusual doll, isn't it? So very lifelike."

"Yes, Mother," Draco agreed, though his eyes were already on the "doll" in question. Narcissa shook her head at this as she wandered away.

"What took you so long?" asked Hermione in a soft voice so Narcissa would not hear if she was still outside the door.

"Um, I don't think you really want to know," he answered, the bile threatening again just thinking about it.

"Did you get the book?" she asked hopefully.

"Yes, here it is," he said. He sat down on the floor, placing the book against the doll's house so he could read it better, then picked up Hermione and sat her on his knee so she could read along. Using his wand to cast a search spell, he ran a search for the spell she'd used to shrink the house and herself in the first place.

Hermione said, "Yes, that's how I got into the mess, but does it say how to get out of it again?"

"Here's a reference to the spell," he said happily. "So, I was wondering, Hermione, since you and Ron are probably not going to be together anymore, if you'd consider having dinner with me after we get you big again."

"With you?" she asked, surprised.

"Yes, with me," he chuckled. "You know, I'm not the man I used to be. Sure, I can still be a bossy git at times, and I'm quite guilty of enjoying the finer things in life, but you might be pleasantly surprised by the changes I have made since the Dark Lord's demise."

Hermione glanced at the hand he was using to keep her from falling, tracing her tiny fingers lightly over the spot where a portion of his Dark Mark peeked out from under his sleeve. "So, you don't care about this anymore?" she asked quietly.

"Here's the page," Draco said, looking up a moment before meeting her eyes to say, "and no, I don't give two figs about that stuff anymore. Father says it was all rubbish, and I should treat you and anyone else without pureblood the same as I would anyone else."

"But Draco, you're mean to everyone," Hermione pointed out with a soft giggle.

"There you have it, then," he said with a sly grin. "I would be equally as obnoxious to you as anyone else _if _I had only a casual interest in you. But then again, if you were my girl, it'd be different. I'd have to be nice to you then."

"That's hardly true," Hermione said. "Ron wasn't very nice to me, was he?"

"That lousy weasel? Who cares about him?"

"Oh my," Hermione gasped. She had turned and begun to read the book as soon as she'd mentioned Ron's name, and had just come across the first line of text in the reverse spell.

"What is it?" asked Draco as he read it as well. "Using the same wand you cast with? How the bloody hell are we going to do that?"

"Dammit," Hermione said on a sob as tears pricked her eyes. "Now what am I going to do? I'm doomed forever to be nothing but a plaything!"

Draco smirked.

"What's so funny, Draco?" she demanded as she wiped away a tear.

"Nothing," he lied, and she kicked him in the thumb. "Ouch! Okay, okay, I was just being a bit naughty, thinking about how you'd be a much more useful plaything if you were a bit bigger. Ouch! Sorry, sorry!"

"Ferret!" Hermione huffed. Then her own eyes became introspective as well, and Draco laughed.

"You know, doll, I haven't laughed this much in a really long time," he told her. "Where was your wand last you saw it?"

"Ron broke it," she reminded him.

"Yes, but after he broke it, what then?" Draco persisted.

"Um, I don't know," she admitted. "It was in his hand right before you came in, but I don't remember seeing him with it by the time we left. Maybe it's still in the shop."

"I should go back there and search for it," Draco said.

"But Draco, it's broken," Hermione reminded him.

"Perhaps it can be mended," he pointed out.

"Take me with you then," Hermione said firmly. "And the book, too."

"You heard my Mother, she's expecting me for dinner soon."

Hermione sighed dejectedly. "I suppose we'll just have to wait until afterwards."

"Hey, doll, it's going to be all right," Draco said, picking her up and depositing a kiss to the top of her head. "We'll get this mess all sorted out. So, where do you want to go for dinner when we do?"

Hermione giggled at this. "I never said I'd go," she reminded him.

"You will, Granger," he said confidently.

"How do you know?" she scoffed.

"Because you've been secretly wanting me for years now," he teased.

"Gods, what a typically Malfoy answer," she responded dryly. "And as to where we could have dinner, I could always make dinner for you—as a sort of a thank you for the rescue."

"Very well, Granger," he said. "It's a deal."

With that, Draco set her on her feet again and went off to have his dinner.


	8. Chapter 8

VIII

Draco entered the library with a sigh of relief a couple of hours later. "I thought that meal would never end," he muttered as he headed for the doll's house to look for Hermione.

"Draco, there you are," she said with relief. "I was beginning to think you'd never come back."

"Don't worry, Hermione," he said as he held out his hand so she could climb onto it. "I have a vested interest in this endeavor."

"Oh, and what might that be?" she practically purred.

"You know exactly what it is, doll," he chuckled. "I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to have to hide you in my pocket to get you past my father. He never allows me to Apparate in the house."

"How barbaric," Hermione grumbled, and Draco cast her a look to see if she was having him on. Her smirk made him chuckle as he gave some thought to the silly rule.

"Yes, I suppose a Muggle-born witch's parents are a lot less strict when it comes to that sort of thing," he conceded. "I'll have to make up something to get past the warden, though. Perhaps I should just tell him I'm off to meet my friends for a few laughs at the pub. Only, last time I tried that one he wanted to come along."

"Draco, am I missing something? I could have sworn you were old enough to do whatever you like."

"Well, yes," he hedged. "I was thinking of getting my own place, to tell the truth, but it's so much easier to just stay here."

"Why don't you move out to the cottage I saw out back?" Hermione pointed out.

"Oh, I don't know," he said. "It hasn't been used for years, and it would be totally convenient. I just didn't know what kind of reaction I'd get, asking for my dead grandmother's place. It's still a sore spot for Father even after so many years."

"It's so weird hearing about your father's behavior in his own home," Hermione said as she put her arms around his thumb so he could lift her up. "All that time when we fought in the war, I never considered what sort of man he might be. All I could see was a monster—a Death Eater who wanted me and everyone like me dead. What do you think he'd say about you having dinner with me?"

"He's not the man he used to be," Draco said. "I don't think he'd be nearly as scandalized anymore. Here, hop in."

Hermione got into the pocket of his coat and squirmed around, trying to get comfortable. Draco slipped his hand inside, and she found herself absently stroking his thumb as he walked out into the main house.

"Draco, there you are," Lucius said pleasantly. "You certainly have been spending a great deal of time in the library lately, my boy. Would you care to join me in a nice glass of wine and a game of Wizard's chess?"

"I would, Father, but I kind of promised the boys I'd stop by the pub for a couple hours," he said. "I'd love to play when I get back, though. Perhaps you and mother could warm up the board till I return?"

"Yes, of course," he agreed. "I'll see you later then, son."

Hermione squeezed Draco's thumb tightly in relief, and he gently jiggled his hand in agreement. He saw his father watch his movement speculatively, and groaned inwardly, hoping he'd leave it alone.

"Have you got something in your pocket, Draco?" Lucius wanted to know.

"Only a penny, Father," he said. "My lucky penny."

"Ah, so you intend to do something that requires a bit of luck, do you?" he chuckled. "You're not off to see a woman, are you?"

Blushing, Draco replied, "You caught me. That's exactly where I'm going. But it's kind of a first date, so I didn't want to say anything."

"So, who is the girl, then?" he wanted to know.

"Um, well, actually it's our favorite little Muggle-born," he answered.

"Hermione Granger?" he said. "I thought she and that Weasley boy were an item."

"They broke up," he said. "The Weasel was stepping out on her. I thought maybe I'd just hang out and try to offer her a shoulder to cry on."

"No Weasley has ever been worth crying over," Lucius sneered. "She'll be much better off without him."

"Yes, Father," he answered as he started to fidget. Hermione elbowed him in the fingers, making him ball his hand up to keep from rubbing it. "Well, I don't want to keep her waiting, so…"

"By all means, son, you have my blessing in the matter," he said. "She's a smart, pretty, and caring young woman. You couldn't find one finer."

"Well, good night, then," Draco said. "I'm not sure when I'll be back. Don't wait up if it gets too late."

"Good night, Draco," he said as he pat him on the back. Draco walked out the front door, and then Apparated Hermione and himself to her shop.

"If I hadn't heard that with my own ears, I never would have believed it," Hermione said as he took her out of his pocket and set her down on the floor. "Now, help me see if we can find the wand. Maybe we'll get lucky, and Ollivander will be able to repair it."

"I hope so," Draco said. "I'd hate to think what will become of you if we can't reverse the effects."

"Don't remind me," Hermione grumbled as she looked around the main store. "Draco, why don't you see if he took it into the living quarters? You're bigger, so you could do it a lot faster."

"Good idea," he agreed. "Sure you don't want me to bring you with?"

"I trust you," she answered, smiling up at him. Draco smiled back gratefully, and then he turned and went over to the door leading to the back. He soon returned empty-handed, and discovered Hermione by the waste bin with tears in her eyes.

"Aw, Hermione," he said sadly as he looked inside. The wand lay there, broken into about five or six pieces. "We'll have to look for another way, then. Perhaps we could find a recipe for an enlargement potion."

"Oh, great," she sniffed. "Instead of me fitting in your palm, perhaps you'll fit in mine."

Draco picked her up and kissed the top of her head, then held her to his heart. Hermione leaned against him as he let her cry it out.


	9. Chapter 9

IX

"Come now, Ollivander, there must be something you can do," Draco prodded the older man who stood before him. "Your shop may have been ruined during the war, but your knowledge cannot have died along with it. We need a wand now."

"We?" he asked. "You know that the wand chooses the wizard. Who is the wand for?"

"Hermione Granger," he answered.

"And why is Miss Granger not here herself, so she can select her wand?"

"I am here," Hermione said from inside Draco's pocket. Her tiny head and hands poked out where he could see her.

"Come out of there," he told her, and took her out of the pocket. He set her up on the counter and peered at her curiously. "How in Merlin's name did you get so small?"

"I accidentally spilt reduction potion on myself," Hermione hedged.

"And you cannot use the same wand to reverse the spell?"

"Only if you are able to repair it," she said. "The pieces are in Draco's pocket as well."

"Well then, young man, let us have a look," said Ollivander as he held out his hand. Draco fished them out one at a time, and by the time the third was produced, his face had already fallen, though he held his tongue to the last. "I am afraid, my dear, that your assessment of the wand is quite correct. None of these pieces contains the soul."

Hermione's eyes brimmed with tears again.

"I can provide you with a new wand, to be sure," he added quickly as he pat her tiny shoulder in reassurance. "But I don't think that wand will be able to reverse the spell of its predecessor."

The tears now came on in full force. Draco stepped over and picked Hermione up, holding her against him again.

"Why do I get the feeling there is more happening here than you're telling me?" Ollivander asked when he saw this. "I was under the impression that Miss Granger was the particular friend of Ronald Weasley?"

"Ron is the one who destroyed the wand," Draco explained with a murderous glint in his eyes.

"And was he also the cause of this—little—debacle?" he inquired, flushing as he realized he'd chosen the wrong word even as he'd said it.

"Unfortunately, yes," Draco said, and Hermione flushed as well.

"Then perhaps all is not lost, after all," Ollivander suggested.

"What do you mean, sir?" asked Hermione hopefully.

"It's quite simple, really," he replied. "If Ronald Weasley is the one who dumped the elixir on you, it is Ronald Weasley's wand that should undo it."

"Right," Draco said grimly. "I'm on it." When he set Hermione down, she began to protest, but he placed a pinky on her lips to stop her. "You stay here, doll. Let old man Ollivander find you a new wand. I'll deal with the weasel."

"Are you sure?" she asked, wringing her tiny hands.

"Looks like it's to be a late supper," he answered with a grin. "Hope you're hungry."

Blushing softly, she replied, "I think I'm starving, actually."

"Then I'm most definitely sure," he replied. "I'll see you soon, yes?"

Hermione nodded, and the pair of them watched Draco pop into thin air.

"Well then, my dear, let's see which of these wands takes a fancy to you," said Ollivander cheerfully as he turned and began selecting boxes. Smiling fondly at the old man who was once more in his element, Hermione gave him her full attention.

OOO

Ron was asleep in Lavender's bed, alone. Draco could hear Lavender singing in the shower, so he knew the two of them would not be disturbed as he stepped into the bedroom like he owned the place.

"Oi, Weasley, wake up," he hissed. "You have a bit of unfinished business."

"Malfoy, what the devil are you doing?" Ron demanded. "You can't just come in here—"

"Don't you tell me what I can and cannot do," he growled fiercely. "Put on that robe. You're coming with me."

"What? But that's Lav's robe, mate?" he protested. "Where do you think you're taking me?"

"That's for me to know, and you to find out," he said. "Now put it on, or I'll take you just as you are. I'm sure I don't care if anyone sees your rather uninspiring arse."

Turning purple with embarrassment, Ron slipped on the robe. Draco grabbed him by the wrist and Apparated the two of them back to Ollivander's shop. When Ron saw where they were, and spotted Hermione trying out wands in the background, he balked.

"I'm out of here," he said. "I want nothing more to do with Hermione Granger."

"Afraid she's going to hex you with her new wand?" Draco sneered. "I wouldn't blame her. No, Weasley, I've brought you here to fix her, and then you needn't trouble your bloody red head about her any longer. I'll take very good care of her from now on."

"You?" Ron scoffed. "I didn't sell you Hermione, you know, just her bloody doll house. She'd never want anything to do with a lousy git like you."

"Yes I would, Ronald," Hermione told him. "Now shut up and make me big again."

"Me? How would I make you big again?"

"Recite this incantation," Ollivander said as he handed him a book. "Once you've said the words, all it will take is one swish of your wand and—"

"Bloody hell," Draco groaned.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked.

"We forgot to grab his wand," he said. "You stay right here. I'll go get it."

"Bloody git," Ron grumbled as Draco disappeared once more.

AFTERMATH

Draco and Hermione sat cuddled together in a restaurant booth, giggling. She was her old size again.

"Tell me again about the look on Lavender's face when she found the wrong bloke in her bedroom as she stepped out of her shower," Hermione begged with a chuckle.

"She was so horrified, she screamed and ran out of the bloody house in nothing but her towel," he chuckled. "Scared the old couple who were out for a walk nearly out of their skins."

"At least Ron was kind enough to actually turn me back," Hermione commented, her nose wrinkling a bit.

"Yeah, once he had our word we wouldn't have him arrested," Draco added distastefully.

"Dinner was really good, Draco. Sorry I didn't get to make it since they'd taken all the food." Hermione said shyly as she looked down at her hands. "Thanks. And thanks for helping me. Really—it was great of you."

"Why are you blushing, doll?" Draco asked coyly.

"I'm not blushing," she lied.

"You are," he whispered against the shell of her ear.

"I just wondered what we should do now," she said. "Go our separate ways? Make another date? What do we do?"

"For starters, I'd like to give you a good and proper, real kiss, Miss Hermione Granger," he answered, his face still close to hers. "The one that royal git probably never gave."

"Oh, really?" she chuckled, feeling almost giddy from his nearness and his touch. "What makes you say that?"

"I have never seen you glow, Granger," he answered and his lips claimed hers, softly at first, and then with a much more fervent air.

When Hermione came up for air, she asked, "Am I glowing yet?"

"Not yet," Draco said. "But perhaps you will be in the morning."

And with that, Draco snapped his fingers even as their lips met again, Apparating the couple back to Hermione's shop again. His parents didn't see him for the next three days.


End file.
